The advent of digital literature (and specifically, digital poetry) has reinforced the idea of asking which is the “real” version of texts. While this has happened for hundreds of years, the discussion has moved from a stuffy academic one to a problem that the “common reader” must figure out individually. For instance, in this example, which is the “real” version of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs? Do we want to discuss the 1563 version or the 1570? Should we even pay attention to the 1583 version? After all, it's the fourth iteration of the text. While this is a distinction for people like Dr. Orchard and other people who study British literature from this time period, for the most part, it leaves room for discussion of authorial intent versus reader experience and the response that experience creates.
In the same way, Perloff discusses what she calls “differential texts”; these are defined as “texts with no single version being the definitive one” (2002b). This is something we have seen multiple times during this term, with “Hot Air” and “Storyland” being just two examples of such. Since all people experiencing the text do not have the same experience, how do we read these texts?
Perloff also mentions the “Dreamlife of Letters” and “Ambient Fish” as two texts that grew out of other texts. As we do not have access to the original texts, we do not have the original context in its entirety. So, do we have the “real” text in these two pieces? Does it matter?
In reference to Ambient Fish, the flat text in the printed article (or reading it on the screen) did not encompass the whole experience of the piece. The addition of the erotic narrative voice overrides the reader's potential objection to the profanity by making it "seductive." The choice of buttons that look like breasts initially might alienate some readers, but coupled with the sound of the sensual voice, the whole context changes to something powerful and beautiful. "Fuckflowers" is not read as fuck_ flowers as in, disregard their existence, but as a unit, "fuckflowers" that represents sexuality and sensuality via combination of the words and sound. Perhaps this is the tradeoff for the loss of authorial intent, that is allowing the creation to stand alone and be open to reader response. Lev Manovich seems uncomfortable with this idea and states "since radically different versions of the art object" exist, as in digital poetry, 'the traditional strong link between the identity of the art object and the medium becomes broken'" (2001b). We might rephrase this as enhanced rather than broken which implies a negative context and that something is lost in the process. Media seems to add context and experience once an author gets past the initial loss of control of interpretation and ownership. The movement towards digital expression is summed up well by Bergvall who states, "writers...share...understanding of the connections between text and physicality, between violence and verbal illumination, between the intimate and the public facets of sexual desire...frequently at odds with the declared values of their time, they explored and pushed such connections both in their work and in their body" (2001d).
Questions for discussion:
Does having a “real” version matter? Or is the fact that multiple versions exist part of the discourse about digital literature?
Who determines what is “real”?
What place does profanity hold in academic and artistic discourse? Do you have levels of profanity or a personal classification system? Does it divide along gender lines (see questions below). Is the risk of potential alienation of the reader worth the choice in diction?
Thinking back to “Dreamlife of Letters,” is it insulting to you, as readers, to have the words “curse” and “cunt” out of their original context in this poem? Why or why not? Do you associate them with one another as Perloff does and arrive at a commentary on menstruation?
At this point in the class, is authorial intent becoming less significant and the experience of the text more so? Is digital media not only changing the way we read, but also the way we, as artists, think about creation?
The advent of digital literature (and specifically, digital poetry) has reinforced the idea of asking which is the “real” version of texts. While this has happened for hundreds of years, the discussion has moved from a stuffy academic one to a problem that the “common reader” must figure out individually. For instance, in this example, which is the “real” version of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs? Do we want to discuss the 1563 version or the 1570? Should we even pay attention to the 1583 version? After all, it's the fourth iteration of the text. While this is a distinction for people like Dr. Orchard and other people who study British literature from this time period, for the most part, it leaves room for discussion of authorial intent versus reader experience and the response that experience creates.
In the same way, Perloff discusses what she calls “differential texts”; these are defined as “texts with no single version being the definitive one” (2002b). This is something we have seen multiple times during this term, with “Hot Air” and “Storyland” being just two examples of such. Since all people experiencing the text do not have the same experience, how do we read these texts?
Perloff also mentions the “Dreamlife of Letters” and “Ambient Fish” as two texts that grew out of other texts. As we do not have access to the original texts, we do not have the original context in its entirety. So, do we have the “real” text in these two pieces? Does it matter?
In reference to Ambient Fish, the flat text in the printed article (or reading it on the screen) did not encompass the whole experience of the piece. The addition of the erotic narrative voice overrides the reader's potential objection to the profanity by making it "seductive." The choice of buttons that look like breasts initially might alienate some readers, but coupled with the sound of the sensual voice, the whole context changes to something powerful and beautiful. "Fuckflowers" is not read as fuck_ flowers as in, disregard their existence, but as a unit, "fuckflowers" that represents sexuality and sensuality via combination of the words and sound. Perhaps this is the tradeoff for the loss of authorial intent, that is allowing the creation to stand alone and be open to reader response. Lev Manovich seems uncomfortable with this idea and states "since radically different versions of the art object" exist, as in digital poetry, 'the traditional strong link between the identity of the art object and the medium becomes broken'" (2001b). We might rephrase this as enhanced rather than broken which implies a negative context and that something is lost in the process. Media seems to add context and experience once an author gets past the initial loss of control of interpretation and ownership. The movement towards digital expression is summed up well by Bergvall who states, "writers...share...understanding of the connections between text and physicality, between violence and verbal illumination, between the intimate and the public facets of sexual desire...frequently at odds with the declared values of their time, they explored and pushed such connections both in their work and in their body" (2001d).
Questions for discussion: